


Need a Babysitter? Pick Anyone but Uncle Phil!

by BuckytheDucky



Series: TMOM [2]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Poor Phil, can't tell age-appropriate bedtime stories
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-28
Updated: 2018-11-28
Packaged: 2019-09-01 14:58:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,317
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16767397
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BuckytheDucky/pseuds/BuckytheDucky
Summary: Sarah's teething and grumpy, Steve and Tony are exhausted and grumpy. Obviously, this means Uncle Phil to the rescue!Except...maybe not so much.





	Need a Babysitter? Pick Anyone but Uncle Phil!

Steve shuffles into the kitchen, heading straight for the fridge. He’s bleary-eyed and seemingly running on autopilot as he grabs a bottle from the shelf and puts it in the warmer. Sarah squirms against her father’s chest; she whines softly and snuffles. Her cheeks are red, eyes and nose scrunched up. Phil watches Steve awkwardly shift the infant in his arms to test the temperature of the formula. 

It’s been seven months since Sarah came into the world five and a half weeks early, and everyone has fallen deeply in love with the little girl. Natasha has taken her duties as godmother very seriously. More often than not, she can be found holding Sarah, talking to and playing with the child. They’ve all taken turns babysitting so that Steve and Tony can do their jobs and have time to themselves.

The first time the fathers went out for dinner, their first date after becoming dads, Sarah was three months old, and they’d come home immediately following the meal. Tony had been amused and exasperated on the outside, but it was easy to see he was just as anxious to get back to their daughter as Steve was. Thankfully, not all of the dates ended so abruptly, though they were always back by ten o’clock.

Steve is beyond exhausted now as he tries to get Sarah to take her bottle; she’s been teething, which has caused the usually-happy baby to be cranky and fussy. Clint had offered to help three nights ago, but Steve had declined any assistance. Phil can see how worn down the blond is. Even with the serum, going extended periods of time without enough sleep is ill-advised. Both fathers are irritable, snapping at the others at the slightest provocation, and Natasha is one outburst away from kidnapping her goddaughter. 

“Give her here,” Phil says quietly when Sarah spits out the nipple for the fourth time, and her fussing ratchets in volume. He stands from the dining chair, holding out his arms. “Steve? Give me the baby, and go get some sleep.”

“I’ve got her, Phil.”

Phil sighs as Steve curses under his breath at yet another failed attempt of getting Sarah to drink. “Look, we’ve let you and Stark keep up this stubborn act, but you both are unravelling at the seams. So you can either pass my niece over, take yourself back to bed, and get sleep, or I can call Natasha and Clint, and we can force you to listen. Either way, you’re getting some damn sleep.”

Steve opens his mouth as if to argue, but the baby’s sudden, shrill cry interrupts him. His shoulders slump; with a slight hesitance, he does as Phil ordered. Phil doesn’t mention the tears of frustration in the other man’s eyes as he gently cradles all fourteen pounds of squirming, squalling baby in his arms. Steve kisses his daughter’s head, smiles wanly at Phil, and makes his way to the elevator. Before he steps in, he turns. 

“She got a dose of infants’ ibuprofen about twenty minutes ago. JARVIS added it to the chart, but I figured I should tell you anyway. Thank you.”

“Go, Steve.” Phil glances down at Sarah once Steve is gone. “Okay, Miss Sarah, let’s get you feeling better.”

He holds her securely in one arm and tidies up the folders on the table with his free hand. He snatches up the bottle on his way out of the kitchen. Once they’re in his quarters, he sets her in her play-pen, an action she vocally disapproves of, and heads into the kitchen. He washes his hands, pulls an ice pack from the freezer, and makes his way back to Sarah, keeping the ice pack held tightly against his fingers. Phil waits until her mouth is open on another watery scream then slips the tip of his index finger inside; he finds the problem area in seconds, massaging gently at the tooth attempting to break through. Sarah’s cries quiet almost instantly, and she gums happily at his finger. He does this for a few minutes. When he retracts his finger, it’s covered in baby slobber, but Sarah is smiling, so he decides to try his luck. 

Thankfully, Sara takes her bottle without more protests. Phil burps her when she’s finished, patting gently at her back until her tiny belch sounds in his ear. She yawns as he checks her diaper, and he presses a kiss to her dark, silky hair and lays her on her back in the portable crib. Her bright blue eyes close and open slowly, sleepily. He stares down at her, feeling panicked all of a sudden.

“You want a bedtime story now, right? And of course you’re not going to answer – you’re a baby, you can’t.” Phil sighs and sits on the floor, gazing at her through the netting. “Okay, I’m not particularly good at storytelling, so bear with me. There’s this place, Tahiti, and it’s almost magical. Warm sand, bright sun, beautiful ocean. I went there on a vacation, and I sometimes wonder why I left. I had no stress, no responsibilities. Nothing to do but nonstop relaxation. See, I don’t normally take vacations – your Uncle Clint takes up all my time with the stupid crap he pulls that  _ I _ have to fill out paperwork for, like the time he went against orders and ended up as a teddy bear for a mutant. Anyway, Tahiti… I was forced to take this vacation after I died, obviously I’m okay  _ now _ . Science and magic do a lot to resurrect a man, especially if used in conjunction with super-secret experimental procedures, but that’s –”

The door swings open, and Phil looks up to see Natasha striding in, followed closely by Clint. Though it’s nearly three in the morning, they’re both wide awake. Clint drops a rectangle of thick poster-board on the coffee table as Nat scoops a sleeping Sarah into her arms. They leave without saying a word. Phil stares after them for a moment then shrugs and climbs to his feet. He rinses out the bottle, leaves it in the sink, and heads to bed. 

_____________________________

Waking up to nothing but the sound of Tony breathing evenly is a very welcome change from the past four mornings. Steve smiles into the silence, pulling his partner closer; he hadn’t wanted Phil to take Sarah for the night, but the serum and taking shifts with Tony in regards as to who got up with her could only do so much. Their sleep was still insufficient and limited. He almost feels bad for not having accepted help sooner, but Tony hadn’t, either.

When he realises he isn’t going to fall back to sleep again, Steve kisses Tony’s bare shoulder and slips out of bed. JARVIS speaks once the bedroom door is closed.

“Good morning, Captain. It is currently eleven forty-three. Per Ms Potts and Agent Romanov’s request, I have cleared the day’s schedules for you and Mister Stark.”

“Thanks, JARVIS. Who’s all up?”

“Everyone else is awake. Agents Barton and Romanov are in the communal living room with Miss Sarah, Doctor Banner is in his lab, Mister Wilson is at work, and Agent Coulson is in the kitchen. Thor and Loki are still in their quarters, along with Doctor Foster and Ms Lewis.”

“Great. Thank you.”

When he steps off the elevator, he immediately sees his daughter laying on her belly, laughing and gurgling at the television. Clint is sprawled out beside her as he signs along and mocks the show. Natasha glances up from her book and smiles at Steve. He grins back, turns toward the kitchen. He stops at the sight of Coulson sitting at the table. Around the agent’s neck is a handmade sign:

**_Banned_ ** **_from Babysitting!!!_ **

  
Steve opens his mouth to ask but closes it when he can’t find the appropriate words, deciding that he  _ really _ doesn’t want to know.


End file.
